#the music ensembles are the only part of the military i give a damn about and the musicians in them are so good.

[supercantaloupe]

it'd probably be a terrible idea but i kind of wish i was healthy enough to audition for one of the military bands. tee bee aych.

[hayjeon]

You Set My Heart on Fire 01 [M] ft. Namjoon

→ fireman!namjoon and paramedic!y/n au (warning: drunken sex, oral, etc.)  → 10k words, part 1 | part 2 | fin. → As a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

Hi! this is a reupload, and i figured i’d vamp up the title and the header in the meantime! Thank you to the user who managed to save this just in time, after I accidentally deleted it T___T I am forever indebted to you, and I lost your username, so if you see this pls dm me i’d love to write something for as a token of my appreciation!

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair as the lawyer continues to lay out the demands.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you huff, glaring at the idiot gangster who’s at the other side of the room. He cringes a bit at your glare, nursing an ice pack against his bruised cheek.

“I swear, he slapped my ass! I was just retaliating!” You cry, frustrated. Your surgery chief huffs angrily at your behavior and you settle back, clenching your fists on top of the table.

The lawyer snarks back, “You also managed to cause damage to the victim’s body in the process. He’s demanding full reparations. Let’s see,” she muses, flipping through the documents spread out on the table between the both of you. “A broken nose, bruised cheekbone, fractured wrist from when he fell, and muscle strains on his lower back, and psychological damage from framing him for sexual harassment and from the physical assault. In total, it would amount the hospital to about $50,000 to cover the hospital costs and the time he would need to talk off from his job, and the continued physical and mental therapy sessions to follow for around 6 months.” She closes the file with a grin. “So, Dr. Y/N, what’s it gonna be?”

“Chief, I can’t believe we’re just losing to him!” You cry, following after Dr. Kim, who’s seething as he storms down the hall outside of the conference room.

He screeches to a halt, turning around with a glare. “Well, what do you wanna do?!” He throws his hands up in defeat, “You want to cause a whole legal issue? You know that there’s really nothing else we can do in this situation! It’s your word against his, and the video cameras only show proof of him passing by you, and then you throwing a big ass punch in his fucking face!” He cries, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.

“Look, Dr. Y/N, you did the right thing. The fucker deserved the punch, and you threw a good one. But,” he continues, placing his glasses back on his nose and patting your shoulder, “giving him the money is the best thing we could do for both the hospital and for you. So, just, take this next month off, get the community service done and then come right back. Alright? I’ll even let you head all the interesting cases that come into the operating room.”

He sighs, and walks off, leaving you behind. You roll your eyes and run a hand through your hair, fist clenching on the brochure of community service options for doctors.

The fucker had brought his girlfriend in during your shift at the emergency room, and while she was getting stitches for a cut that she got from a building collapse, in the craze of the emergency room, he was going around touching asses. You’d heard the nurses complaining about it, about how it was just a swipe of the hand that seemed like an accident, but multiple had the same experience from the same seedy-looking jerk.

When it was your turn to go up to the patient and explain that her stitches were done and she was alright to go home, he’d come up next to you and his knuckles grazed the skin of your ass. Sick of everything, you’d pushed him back and socked him straight in the face.

Later, from the cameras though, there was no visible evidence of him touching anyone, and it was your word against the clear security camera shot of you socking him right in his big ass nose. So you open the brochure and plop down at your desk to see what options there were. There were the general ones, where you could serve and clean up at a park or volunteer at a soup kitchen, and then there was a separate page for doctors who probably just wanted to maintain their skills in the field they volunteered in. You pick up the phone.

“What?” Yugyeom asks, “Chief seriously ended up giving you a probation period for community service?” He sighs over the phone, and you roll your eyes too.

“Yeah,” you huff, “which one should I do? I should sign up today, since it might take a bit to get approved and might as well start early so I can go back to work as soon as I get all my hours finished.”

He muses, probably scanning the picture you sent him. “Hm...well look, you can go travel to Africa or Cambodia or something. It’ll be like that one drama with Song Joong Ki in it. Maybe you’ll meet a hot military general. What do you think?”

“Too far,” you complain, taking a red pen and drawing a line through it. “Also, they don’t cover air fare or housing. Maybe something more local.”

“Okay, well then what about teaching kids in elementary and high school about general first aid and health? You can maybe meet a single teacher who’s good with kids. That’s kind of hot.”

“I fucking hate kids, Yug, you know that,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and crossing out that option. “Also, why are you trying to get me laid, you should be worried about your own empty gay love life.”

He huffs, “Well, bitch, if you’re gonna be so picky why’d you call. Just take the second to last one, the medic for the fire department! It’ll be fun, I know a friend who works in the one that’s close by to the hospital, so you can just commute from there and if you guys ever end up coming to the emergency room, you’ll see all of us there too.”

You hum, scanning through the brief description: Medic for the Seoul Fire Department. In-department housing and meals provided during both on-call and working hours. Needs basic EMT and paramedic skills. Must be able to handle emergency situations calmly and communicate with safety officers.

You purse your lips, scoffing a little bit at the emergency part. “Well, if there’s something I can handle, it’s emergency.”

He laughs, “What a downgrade...from a cardio surgeon to a paramedic. Jeez, you better get out of this one quick. Just make sure not to punch anyone during duty, and you’ll be fine.”

“Shut up bitch. Let’s go clubbing tonight. I need to let some of this stress out before I get trapped in there.”

The night was lively and the drinks kept flowing. Jennie and Jackson from Health and Nutrition, Sana from pediatrics, Yugyeom and Seulgi from Cardio, and even the oh-so-popular Jaebom and Jinyoung from general surgery came out.

You were dressed in the hottest dress you could find in Seulgi’s closet, and according to Yugyeom’s apparently “gay and therefore superior opinion,” your outfit and hair and makeup were basically a “straight guy’s ticket to bonertown.”

“Legit, how could you be so gay but also talk like such a frat boy at the same time?” You sneer, taking another shot of vodka.

He sucks on his lemon, and then flashes a smile. “It’s the best combination. I pull.”

He cocks his chin to a direction behind you. “Also seems like I was right, because you’ve been pulling too. That guys been staring ever since we got to the bar.”

You turn, blurry vision settling on a handsome, leather jacket clad guy that’s sitting with two other guys at the table. He’s looking now, eyebrow cocked and lip between his teeth. He’s not usually your type, but you feel it. This, was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

You get up, patting Yugyeom on the arm. “Thanks, I’ll take myself home tonight.” He whistles behind you as you try your best to make your way to the guy, but suddenly your drunk ass hobbles on your Forever 21 heels, and you topple to the side. All of a sudden, there’s a strong hand gripping your upper arm and pulling you up, and an arm wrapping around your waist to offer support.

“Oh shit, miss, you alright?” A low voice sounds right next to your ear. You look up, expecting to see the leather jacket guy, but this...this was much better. This guy was dressed in only a black t-shirt tucked into blue jeans. But his simple ensemble didn’t matter. He was tall, way taller than you in your tallest heels, and he smelled so damn good. His hair was slicked up and his skin absolutely golden. He wasn’t biting his lip or doing anything to try and hook up with you, but in seconds, you were sopping wet.

No, this was the guy you were gonna fuck tonight.

“I will be,” you answer him, straightening up and pressing yourself up against him. “when you buy me a drink.”

He seems to understand what you’re getting at. He chuckles a bit, eyebrow quirking and you think it’s the hottest shit you’ve ever seen since waterproof scrubs. He helps you straighten up. “I think you’ve had enough drinks already. Can I get you some water?”

“Yes,” you breathe, but not letting go. “But only if you stay with me until I’m finished.”

He smiles, and keeps his hand on your waist as he guides you the bar and orders a cup of water. You sit on the single empty bar stool, and he stands, and you revel in the fact that even on this tall bar stool, he still stands taller than you.

You sip the water, and he leans an elbow on the bar, inches from you.

“So, what brings you stumbling into this bar?”

“I’m here with some coworkers,” you say, and he leans in closer to hear you over the loud music.

“Won’t they be looking for you?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” You pout, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Hell no, I’m just worried.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead.” You fire back, and he laughs again.

“You gonna keep laughing at my jokes or are you gonna ask me to come home with you?” You raise your brows as you sip your water, looking at him over the rim. His expression darkens, but the corner of his mouth sexily turns up.

“I might laugh a little more just to tease, I suppose. Helps build up for later.” He leans up, hand on the bar, but steps a bit closer to you this time. If you leaned up a bit, you’d kiss. He chuckles again, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He smiles and leans down, other hand cradling your waist as you reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling harshly when he slides his tongue into your mouth as soon as you open up for him.

He’s a good kisser. He knows how to move his lips, knows when to pull back to leave you wanting for more, and does that thing where he stops kissing to just peck wetly at your lips before sinking in for more. Hook, line, and sinker. You’re done. “Let’s get out of here, please,” you whimper against his lips, and he smiles, straightening up.

“As you wish. Oh, also what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you shout over the music. “What about you?”

“You can call me Joon.” He smirks.

The ride to his apartment is blurry, because all you remember is a lot of giggling and trying not to moan at how his hand is so big around your thigh that you have you physically restrain yourself from jumping him on the highway right there. The tires screech as he parks and you both laugh as you stumble into the elevator, giving the security guards watching the cameras a show when you straight up make out with him in the corner of the elevator, his hand up your dress and your hand up his shirt.

He pushes you against his closed door, dropping his keys and jacket on the ground as he undoes the zipper on your dress. You tug at his shirt, “Off,” you whine, and he smiles, stepping back to whip his shirt off with one hand behind his neck.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” you whimper, and he kisses you breathless. “You’ve been saying that all night. Creative, much?”

“Fuck off, I don’t do hook ups much and I’m just telling the truth,” you say, as he gathers you in his arms and literally picks you up and heads to his bedroom. His hands squeeze your ass as he makes his way over, and you catch a glimpse of a neat, tidy living room. His bedroom is clean too, especially for a bachelor. Navy blue sheets, sleek, black furniture, expensive looking place. He was literally so fucking hot.

He drops you on the bed and immediately drapes over you, his jeans rubbing against your soaked panties. He slides his splayed palms up from your waist up to your breasts, mouth following the motion as he laves his tongue over your nipple, palm gently cupping the weight of your breasts in the grip between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. You preen at the sensation, back arching off the bed. “Pants off,” you pant, squirming underneath the warmth of his hands and mouth.

“So bossy,” he comments, smirking as he leans up on his knees to undo his belt. “I dig that.”

You lay back, taking the time to wiggle out of your soaked panties. You thank the gods you chose to wear your new set of lace undies because the rest of your drawer was basically an ocean of white granny panties. He finally drapes back over you, hand gripping your thigh to open you up as he mouths at your neck.

You retaliate by reaching down and gripping his cock, hand squeezing at his base. You can’t really see it because your face is nestled in his shoulder, but you can feel how hard and big he is. He groans at the sensation, nipping at the sensitive skin behind your ear, sending tingles down your spine and your core clenching around nothing.

He props himself up as he looks down at you and slides a finger between your folds. Your yelp dissolves into a drawn out moan. “Oh my god,” you pant, as he slides the flat of two fingers over your bundle of nerves, “please don’t stop that.” You also work your fist over his cock, mouth blubbering nonsense into his neck. He moves the fingers down into your pussy, sliding in with practically no resistance and slowly drawing them in and out your wetness. You don’t really have much time to be embarrassed by the wetness you can hear, because Joon closes his eyes and bites at the soft skin at the top of your breast.

“Shit,” he grits, and he looks down to see the way your wetness glistens on his fingers, “I don’t think I can wait. Are you good?”

You nod eagerly, and you let go of him as he gives you a hard kiss on the mouth and slides a condom on while still fingering you. Its probably not porn-worthy whatever sounds you’re making, but it seems to do the trick because he kisses you even harder and then flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting in his lap. He cradles your waist and descends on your breasts again, tongue circling your sensitive nubs as you sink down on him inch by inch.

When you bottom out, you clench around him. He’s so long and thick, and it’s been a while since your last hook up. It borders on soreness, but the sensation of him moaning with your nipple in between his lips is enough of a distraction for you to work up the nerve to start moving.

It’s embarrassing how turned on right now you are, but Joon seems to be at the same level of deliriousness because he doesn’t stop touching you. From gripping your thighs, to groping your ass, sliding his hands from your waist up to your ribs, tangling in your hair, gently curling around your neck and tightening slightly, he’s literally everywhere.

“Fuck,” you cry out when one of his hands are around your neck, squeezing lightly. You slow down, grinding instead of bouncing, and the new rhythm puts your clit in that perfect position to get stimulated by his pelvis, and his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you that you find yourself hurtling over the edge much faster than you’d imagined.

He mouths at your cheek and ear, hand still around your neck when you cum, and suddenly he grips your thigh and presses you down against his pillows as he kneels in front of you and begins fucking you hard. The bed knocks against the wall, but you can’t care because the new position has your orgasm prolonged to a point that you’ve never felt before and your mouth just stays open in a mouthless cry against his chest as he tenses and finishes into the condom, mouth panting hoarse compliments into your ear. “Holy shit, your pussy feels so good. So tight, fuck.”

He pulls out and rolls over so he’s not crushing you, and you let out a final breath. “Wow,” you say, chest heaving as he ties the condom and throws it away. He props his head up on an elbow, grinning at you. “That good?” He says cockily, and you turn to lightly punch his chest.

“Don’t get too cocky. It was just one orgasm.”

“But also seems like the best you’ve ever had.” He adds. You roll your eyes and retort, “Well, that’s what you think--,” but your laugh dissolves into a moan again when he reaches over and pulls you underneath him to press a long, wet kiss to your mouth.

“Shut up,” he whispers between kisses, "and kiss me back already.” You smile as he kisses you, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, and scratching lightly at his shoulder blades. He growls, and moves to your neck. You sigh as he draws more open-mouthed kisses down your neck and torso, and again when a big hand splays over your thigh to hook it over his shoulder. He presses a peck against your folds and looks up at you, and you mewl as he draws the flat of his tongue thickly through your pussy all the way up. You’re a goner.

“I’m gonna make sure you never forget my name.”

The walk of shame isn’t so bad when you basically have no time to waste as you gather your things and glance once back at Joon who’s still sleeping before running down to his lobby. You don’t really care for the disapproving looks you get, as you rush to get into your uber, and immediately thank god that this particular driver offers you a tiny complimentary water bottle. You chug it down, and try not to throw up.

You literally hurtle out of the car when he gets to your place, making a mental note to tip him heftily, seeing the way he booked it when you asked him to hurry a little. You step into a hot shower and don’t even have time to pick up the dirty clothes off the floor as you quickly dress in a white shirt and navy skirt and run out of your apartment to the bus stop.

Thankfully, you make it on time to your interview, and even though the captain gives a small disapproving look to your wet hair tips, he gives you a huge,  bright smile when you tell him you’re a cardio surgeon “taking a break.” When you told him that you used to work as a paramedic before medical school a few years ago, he basically hired you on the spot, babbling on about how much he loves people with more experience.

“So, miss Y/N, what are your interests, your hobbies?” Hoseok trails like a little puppy after you as you walk down the hall from the Fire Captain’s office to your team’s multipurpose room. You frown at him. “Eh,” you brush him off, “not much.”

He smiles, pushing his hair back from his face and trying to stand up tall, “Well, doctor, I love lifting weights and saving damsels in distress. What are you doing later, say, around 5?” You turn on your heel, and he bumps into you, scuttling backwards at the glare you have on your face.

“Look, honey,” you sneer, stepping towards him with a scowl, “You’re cute, but I’m hungover.” you say, scanning him up and down, “And I’m only here for a month and I swear if I have to spend the entire 30 days having you chase me down like a little pet, then I’m probably going to just jump off a building. Okay? So do me a favor, and stop asking me out.”

He gawks at you, and then recovers. “Wait...you’re only here for a month?”

Rolling your eyes, you resume walking towards the wait room. He wasn’t going to stop. “Yes, I’m here just to serve a short community service sentence.”

He hums, following your footsteps again, grinning. “Okay, fine. I won’t try to ask you out. I’ll just keep replaying the part where you said I’m cute over and over again in my head.” He winks at you lightheartedly.

“Here, let me introduce you to the guys.” He walks a bit faster than you as you approach the room, and creaks the door open and lets you in.

As soon as the door swings open, your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight in front of you. In the room, theres a half naked guy digging through the refrigerator, his firefighter’s outfit hanging around his hips. A pair of muscular large ones are wrestling in the corner, also only decked in sweatpants low on their hips. One lounges on the couch in a pair of glasses and a plain white t-shirt and navy uniform pants and boots, while a similarly dressed shorter one is asleep. A tall one is in the corner playing with a tiny puppy. All six of them swivel their heads towards you when you enter.

You wave awkwardly and take a step back to leave when Hoseok bounds in after you and throws an arm around your shoulder, announcing proudly, “Hey guys, this is the new medic hire! Dr. L/N!”  

The one closest to you gives you a smile, taking off his glasses and setting his book aside to reach out a hand. “Hey, I’m Seokjin, captain. Nice to meet you doctor!” He smiles and you make a note of how hot he looks in glasses and how broad his shoulders were.

“You can just call me by my first name, y/n,” you shake his hand, “Likewise.”

Another one that was digging through the fridge approaches you with a piece of gummy candy hanging from his lips. His face is sharp, but he breaks out in a huge smile that lights up his face. “Taehyung! Hi y/n, welcome to Unit 55!”

You shake his hand too, “Thanks. Do you have any firewomen?” You glance around as the pair who were wrestling stop their antics and approach you shyly. The taller one shrugs, his muscles rippling as he does and you make a huge effort not to stare. “No, honestly it’s really hard to find a firewoman these days and they probably don’t like spending time with all guys like us either.”

Taehyung leans over. “That’s Jungkook by the way.”

His partner punches Jungkook’s bicep and turns to you with a show-stopping smile. Oh. The girls would swoon for both of them, you note. They’ll have no problem finding firewomen who want to spend all day with them. “I’m Jimin. And even though this idiot makes us sound like a bunch of goons, it’s just rough being around 7 guys all the time for girls probably. But we’ll do our best to help you get comfortable around here. We’re really fun, I promise!”

You frown, glancing around the room and counting the people you’d met already. Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin. Which left just the one still asleep somehow through all the commotion on the couch. Seeing your eyes trail over him, Seokjin looks at you over the rims of his glasses, pointing at the sleeping figure with his chin. “Oh, yeah. That’s Yoongi. Good thing he’s not awake cause he’s really grouchy, but he’s also a really good driver so we keep him. You should meet him later when he’s done with his nap.”

You laugh a little, and nod. “And the 7th?”

Jungkook throws on a shirt as he talks. “Namjoon, our unit Battalion Chief. He’s not here right now, but you’ll be able to meet him later. He basically runs this whole thing.”

“Oh I see,” you muse, and give a tight-lipped smile. “Well, maybe I’ll start moving my things in soon. Can you show me my room?”

“Bitch,” Yugyeom sneers as he watches open-mouthed as the guys help unload your car at the station. “You didn’t tell me that all your co-workers were single, hot guys that walked around shirtless all the time.” He frowns at you, ignoring your eye roll, and then switching 180 degrees and laughing and smiling when Taehyung walks by with all your heavy trunks in his arms.

“Hahahaha, Y/N, you’re so funny,” he fakes, and then turns to you with a glint in his eye. “Maybe I should’ve punched that idiot in the face too and I would’ve been here instead.” He hisses, gawking at the way Jungkook and Jimin both easily haul your mattress up the steps. Shirtless, by the way. Again.

You sigh. “It’s only for a month. And honestly, you’re such a fake ass little bitch. You were the one trying to find me a man, and now that I’m surrounded by them, you resent me for it?” you huff. “Oh, Jin, those drawers just go in the closet, thank you.”

“No problem Y/N,” Seokjin grins, pushing up his glasses as he walks past you two easily, holding up the chest of drawers that took both you and Yugyeom an entire twenty minutes to shove in the moving truck. You give him a smile in return and turn back to Yug with a snort. “Wipe your drool.” You laugh, and he closes his mouth with a clack.

“I’ll literally visit you, like all the time, Y/N,” he whispers.

“Please don’t.”

“Oh also,” he turns to you inquisitively. “What happened last weekend? Did you end up going home with that hot guy?”

You pull him closer. “Keep your voice down,” you hiss. “Yes. I fucked him.”

He whistles lowly. “He wasn’t that good?”

Sighing, you check to make sure all the other boys aren’t in the vicinity. “No, that’s the problem. He was too good. I can’t stop thinking about it. Haven’t had a proper orgasm since.”

He looks unsurprised. “Well, when’s the last time you got laid. College?”

“Shut up, asshole,” you frown, “It’s only been like...a few months.”

“Okay, so I guess we’re calling last year’s during our we’re-not-interns-anymore-party a ‘couple months’ ago. It was like 13 months ago.” He points out, and you glare at him.

“Fine,” you snap, “okay? It’s been, like a year. But he was really good, no matter how deprived I’ve been.”

Yugyeom still looks unimpressed, so you pull his sleeve down to whisper in his ear. “I had five orgasms that night.”

He straightens up, turning to you with wide eyes, “FIVE ORGASMS?”

You wince as chief walks by with a stern look, and you pinch Yugyeom in the side as you laugh, “Oh hahahaha, Yugyeom, you’re such a hilarious guy. Why would a patient even talk about those kinds of horrible things in the waiting room?!”

That seems to help as the chief’s expression lightens and he smiles as he grabs a cup of coffee and ascends the stairs again. You drop the smile as soon as the chief is out of earshot and punch Yugyeom hard.

“Little bitch,” you hiss, “are you trying to get me fired?”

He rubs the spot that you punched. “Ow, and no. I’m just shocked. Did you even get his number or something?”

You sigh, watching as the boys come back down to retrieve a couple more things. “No,” you say forlornly, “I literally had to run out for my interview. I only know his name, and I’m not even sure if its right.”

Yugyeom sighs, watching Jungkook and Jimin banter as they come back down.

“Well, at least you have guys like them to keep you company. Did you bring your vibrator along?”

You pinch him again.

With the help of the boys, moving in wasn’t a problem. Surprisingly, the bunk rooms aren’t at all what you’d expected. It was less of a college dorm room style, and more of like a communal housing unit. Apparently, the Seoul station had updated their housing recently, so the inside looked like a newly furnished office hotel, basically.

Jimin was nice enough to move into Hoseok’s room so that you could have the corner room all to yourself, with a private bath attached. It was adequately sized, but there was a nice closet and twin size bed attached, which was an upgrade from the dinky communal on-call room bunk beds that the hospital provided for the residents to sleep in.

There wasn’t even much to unpack, besides a few articles of clothing, a desk and computer for you to do some catching up on hospital paperwork, a mattress so you could sleep on without knots in your back, and your toiletries. You had a uniform anyway, and you were pretty low maintenance. The hospital shifts didn’t really give much space or time to pay attention to your fashion sense or your looks, and it wasn’t going to change now, either.

You make your way downstairs after finishing, with the stairs of course. The boys had kept trying to convince you that you won’t die if you try the pole, but honestly you weren’t down to break your ankle, especially when you were expected to help during an emergency situation. The stairs were fine. You were only on the second floor anyway.

The boys are already eating in the large lounge, and you see that the sleepy fireman had woken up and had starting to cook.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls, scooting his chair over to make room for you at the center of their table. “Here!”

You smile and set down your phone, taking a seat as Taehyung brings you a tray. Its pasta and steak, with a huge side salad and green beans. You gape at the cook who’s still engrossed in tasting and perfecting the sauce for the pasta.

“Yoongi hyung’s a really good cook,” Jimin says, with a mouthful of salad and steak. With that, the man in question appears behind the younger firefighter and hands him a cup of water. “Don’t eat and talk at the same time. It’s disgusting.” He says with a curled lip, and then gives you a nod.

“You’re the new paramedic hire right?” He asks.

You nod, “Hi, yes. I’m Y/N.” He shakes your hand, nods, and turns away. “Not much of a talker, is he?” You say, and the boys chuckle.

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, “Yoongi’s not really an extroverted type. But he’ll warm up to you, just give it time.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. You have to sit in your room for a couple hours though, watching boredly through the instructional training online lessons you had to complete before starting your first day. You’re close to dozing off when a soft knock sounds.

“Yes!” You sit up and turn, and Jungkook appears, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Y/N! What you doin’?”

You stick a thumb at your computer, “Training videos,” you sigh, curling your lip. “Why?”

“Oh, hyungs and I are gonna watch a movie. If you wanna come sit with us in the lounge and do your training or just watch with us, you’re welcome to!”

You pause. “Won’t it be loud? I probably won’t be able to get anything done.”

“I’m pretty sure Seokjin hyung has done basic training before. He can probably give you all the answers to those end-of-lecture quizzes.”

Now there was your incentive to go. You smile, standing up and closing your laptop. “Why didn’t you say that sooner? Let’s go.”

He guides you down to where the lounge is and all the boys chime a nice “hello” or “y/n!” when you appear in the doorway. You can see that a new episode of Game of Thrones is on. You pad over to Seokjin and he smiles when you ask him for the favor, and moves seats to the couch behind so you can sit with him and watch at the same time.

The night goes smoothly, you tapping Seokjin everytime you finish a lesson and him pausing to quickly finish the quizzes, and you joining in with the debates about the show occasionally. Yoongi brings out some snacks, and eventually Jimin brings out a blanket for you, and by the end of the episode, your training is finished and you’re sipping on soda and eating pizza.

It’s nice, you think, a lot nicer than the hospital. You were used to the competitive nature of medicine. It was always competing against the other residents or interns to get a spot that had ridiculously low acceptance rates. There was always no time to relax. This wasn’t bad at all.

But you shake your head. This was temporary. A break. No need to get attached. They’re just being hospitable. You give a tight lipped smile as the episode ends and you take your laptop and blanket with you as you stand. “Thanks, guys, for inviting me. I’m gonna turn in tonight.” you say, slowly shuffling away. “Good night!” Taehyung yells, and the other boys chime in one by one.

You set your stuff down in your room and get ready for bed. Laying in your single bed, with no one else snoring or sleep talking, and with no post-surgery fatigue to get you straight to sleep, it’s hard. You end up staring up at the ceiling of your room, sighing as you try to think of the most boring topics in the world to try and get to sleep.

“Just a few weeks, y/n.” you murmur, turning onto your side.

You’re finally dozing off when suddenly, the intercom you had no idea was located right outside your door bursts to life. “Code 904B Building Fire. Code 904B Building Fire.”

You scramble up, throwing your covers back as you stick your head out into the hallway. The lights are flashing brightly, but you can hear the sounds of the boys in each room getting ready. The first one out into the hallway is Taehyung, and he jogs up to you. “Put on your uniform, y/n,” he pants, “and meet us downstairs as soon as possible. We gotta go, and since it’s a building fire, there might be a few injuries you can help us with.”

“Okay,” you nod, as the rest of the boys begin appearing in the hallway with navy shirts on and their firemen overalls already on. They one by one disappear down the pole and you scramble to get the paramedic bodysuit on. You pull on your boots hastily and then sprint down the stairs, and see the chief addressing everyone.

“Alright, Yoongi and half of you in car 1, and the rest of you in mine. Namjoon is already in his way from his meeting, so he’ll meet us there. Let’s go!” The boys break out into jogs as they hurriedly begin packing the hoses tightly and jumping into the cars. “Chief,” you call out, “Where can I go?”

“Go with Yoongi!” He yells, and drives off, sirens wailing. You jump into the first car and immediately you’re surprised when Yoongi, usually lethargic and slow, slams on the accelerator and your own truck bolts into life. Stumbling into a seat, you ask Hoseok, “So, this is how it always happens?”

He nods solemnly, his usual playful smile gone. “24/7. We gotta stay alert.” You nod. He points to a large, bright orange utility box in the corner of the bus. “That’s your medic kit. You can look through it now if you want, we’ll be getting to the site in a few minutes.”

You nod, perching the box on the seat next to you and digging through it. It was pretty basic, syringes, bottles of lidocaine and epinephrine for stitch jobs, synthetic thread, scalpels, bandaids, alcohol, gauze, and more. You were used to working with the minimum at the emergency room. And seemed like whoever was in charge of this box had kept it neatly and pretty well-stocked. You lock the box when the truck begins to slow, and look out the window to see the commotion.

A large building has caught on fire, and already there are two other trucks unloading at the site, their firefighters already hooking up their hoses onto the fire hydrants and assembling into position to enter the building for any remaining people. The whole area smells like smoke and through it, the glow of the orange fire against the night sky is barely visible.

Immediately as the truck parks, the boys in the vehicle spring to motion. Their uniforms are already on, helmets, gloves, and oxygen tanks and all. One by one they jog out the door of the truck and do the same, unloading the hose from the side of the firetruck and linking it easily to the fire hydrant and getting ready to spray down the building.

You pull your hair back into a ponytail and look around for anyone who might be in need of help. There’s already a few survivors out around the area in the grass, and you run over to a woman laying down.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” You say as you approach her and kneel next to her. Her husband is crying. “Sir! Is she okay? What happened?”

“P-please! We were just picking up our son and then the burning piece of wood fell on her leg. No one has been able to h-help her yet! Our son is still in that building, too!”

You unlocked your box and reassured him, “Okay, sir, I need you to calm down and help me. Someone will go find your son, but we need to help your wife right now. Do you have a phone on you? Can you use the flashlight? I need to see the area.”

He does as you instruct with shaky hands, and you carefully use the scissors in the kit to cut a strip down her pants. The burn is quite bad and covers a lot of surface area, in addition to having a huge laceration down her thigh that needs to be stitched up now, in case of infection or bleeding out. You frown, she must have been in a lot of pain.

“Ma’am, can you understand me? This is going to be a bit painful, but I need to sanitize the area.”

She’s just sobbing at this point, but you can make out some words. “Please,” she sobs, “M-my s-son!”

You lean closer, “Sorry? Your son?”

She sobs and nods, “H-he’s still inside!!” She pushes your hands away from her leg, “I won’t be treated until I find him!”

You sigh, turning around to see if there are any firefighters available. You see one coming out of the building to replace his oxygen tank. You run up to him, unable to see anything but his eyes through the protective gear he was wearing.

“Hey! Hey, this woman I’m trying to treat is refusing treatment until she sees her son, and she claims he’s still inside. Please, if she doesn’t let me treat it right now, she might have to amputate her leg.” He nods, and follows you to the couple.

When they see him approaching, the woman goes hysterical. “Please!” She screams, “He’s still in there, on the second floor. I haven’t seen anyone bring him out!”

“Okay, ma’am, I’m going to go back inside for him. You need to calm down, and let this lady treat your leg, or else it could get worse. You need to stay strong for your son.”

She nods, and turns to you. You spring into action, giving the firefighter a nod as he stands. You frown, his voice sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint it.

The lady begins wailing as the adrenaline fades and the pain of her injury begins to hit. You have her husband hold her hand as you pour some alcohol on the area and she wails as the open cut is cleaned out.

Quickly, you stitch up the wound and dress the burns so that they’re manageable. She refuses to take the ambulance to the hospital until she sees her son, so you coax her into just sitting on the gurney in the ambulance and wait for her son. You try and calm down the couple as you move onto address a few more people in the vicinity with minor cuts, scrapes, and burns.

Suddenly, you hear a commotion, and you turn to the building that’s now less of a bonfire and more of a quiet smolder, and the firefighter from earlier emerges with something in his arms.

The woman you had treated earlier immediately starts wailing and crying as the firefighter jogs over to you and her and sets a boy down onto a gurney. He’s unconscious, and the firefighter whips off his helmet as he addresses you.

“He’s breathed in quite a bit of smoke, and fell unconscious when I picked him up. He needs pediatric CPR!”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok cries out.

You gawk as you watch him yell instructions at you and the rest of the firefighters you’d met, brows furrowing and eyes widening as you recognize those slanted eyes, thick lips and angled jawline that you’d run your tongue over that one fateful night. It was Joon. He was a firefighter. His name was Namjoon.

“Y/N!” He grabs you by the shoulders, “Focus!”

You immediately spring into action, running towards the boy and checking his pulse. “Do you know how to do compressions on a pediatric patient?” You breathe, and Joon nods, throwing his helmet and his tank aside and opening the buttons on his uniform jacket before he climbs atop the gurney.

As he begins compressions, you deliver some shots on his arm and search his body for any large cuts or burns. You hook him up to an oxygen mask and turn up the machine to high. “Switch!” You call out, and your hands replace Joon’s as you climb atop him and begin compressions.

“One, two, three...” You count out, as other paramedics swarm around you to prepare him to be delivered to the hospital as soon as possible.

The boy stirs, and you stop compressing, and watches as he begins coughing, from deep within, and you help remove his oxygen mask and pull him up to a sitting position as he continues coughing the smoke and ash out of his lungs. A paramedic gives him some water and after the boy finishes coughing, you help him sip some water as he recovers.

The others help usher him onto a gurney and also help his mother and father join the ambulance.

You watch as the blaring sirens fade away and sigh as the remaining firefighters douse the building in water and put out the flames. Your knees are feeling weak, your heart up in your throat, and your breath short.

Feeling a presence standing next to you, you turn and meet eyes with him. You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a once over from his ash-stained angular face to the bulky equipment and uniform lining his body. Probably from the boots he was wearing, he seemed even taller than from the club.

He gives you a cocky grin. “So, you’re a paramedic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, stopping down to collect your materials and all the wrappers of the syringes and needles you had used to treat your patients.

“Not a paramedic, a doctor. On voluntary community service.” You huff.

He stoops down too, setting his helmet aside to help with your tools. “No wonder you’re good with your hands.”

You stop, sitting on your haunches to give him a look. He does the same, matching your cold gaze with a smirk. “I think that’s very unprofessional, Mr. Joon.”

You stand, locking the paramedic box angrily and stomp away.

But he easily catches up to you, having those damned long legs of his, and follows you to your truck. It makes you angrier that he begins unloading his equipment and uniform off into the same truck you came in.

“I think, Y/N, the moment you started making out with me at that club, professionalism was kind of thrown out the window, don’t you think? You disappear that morning without a trace, and then suddenly you appear again at my workplace. Don’t you think I have the right to be a bit confused and curious?”

“Look.” You turn to him. “That was a one-night thing. I told you that I don’t do them often, and it was a mistake and I’m sorry, I won’t do that to you again. So just--” you throw your hands into the air, frustrated that he looked so goddamn good as he took off his thick outer coat and stood in front of you with just a black t-shirt and the pants of his uniform low on his hips. “--just pretend it didn’t happen. Just forget about it.”

You turn to walk away into the truck, but he stops you. “Wait! Wait wait wait, Y/N,” he turns to face you, the smirk wiped away and now brows attractively collecting in a frown, “For the record, I don’t consider that night as a mistake.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen as you frown up at him.

He doesn’t look away. The playfulness has dropped and he’s completely serious as his voice takes a lower tone.

“Sleeping with you wasn’t a mistake for me. Don’t apologize. I’ve only been able to think about you since then, and I don’t think that you showing up here out of all the other precincts or departments is another mistake, either. I’m sorry if I came on too strong, but I want to be clear with you that my intentions are to get to know you better, and do it the right way.”

“Do what the right way?”

“Date you,” he says simply, like he was talking about the goddamn weather.

Literally, who was this guy? Your mind was completely blank. Like, who just says exactly what they’re thinking? How could he just be so...honest? What’s his game?

You blubber out the first thing that comes to mind. “I don’t date co-workers. Especially here. I’m only scheduled to volunteer for several weeks.”

He seems to gain a bit of confidence. “Y/N, that sounds more like an excuse, than it does a reason.”

You huff, blowing your hair out of the way. “Nonetheless, the answer is no.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Don’t be surprised if I ask you again.”

And he does.

Every. Single. Day.

When you wake up, “Hey, Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

“No,” you’d say, roll your eyes, and spit out your toothpaste.

When you’re in the library, reading up on the latest studies. He’ll pop his head in and say, “Oh, Y/N, dinner’s ready.”

When you look up and nod, “Thanks. I’ll be right there.”

He’ll nod back, and then say, “Oh by the way, will you go on a date with me?”

You’d learned to just laugh it off or ignore him.

When you’re in the dining commons. You’ll be chatting with Taehyung about something and Namjoon will walk by, hand you a mug of coffee, and walk away without a word. When you lift the coffee up to drink it after Taehyung leaves for something, you find a slip of paper on the saucer.

Will you go on a date with me?

You crumple up the paper while maintaining eye contact and drop it into the steaming cup of coffee. Then, you stand, and pour the mug out into the trash, while he watches with an amused smirk.

The only times he doesn’t ask you out is when you’re on calls.

Over the next few weeks, you notice that Namjoon has three modes: 1) His Chief mode, 2) his off-duty mode, and 3) his flirting-with-you mode. Modes 2 and 3 tended to mix, especially when he was with you.

But whenever that light on the walls of the department begin to ring and flash, indicating an emergency call, Namjoon immediately enters his chief-mode. One time, he was in the middle of taunting you with probable bad-date ideas, the lights began flashing and you had watched as he shook himself out of his off-duty mode, and immediately started barking out orders to the group and you, responding to the dispatch on his walkie-talkie. It had happened in a millisecond.

You were in the lounge with Seokjin and Jimin, watching a movie while Yoongi dozed off in one of the couches. You had slowly begun to easily sink into this lifestyle. You guys were lucky if you got at least a few hours in between calls to relax, and since the most recent call was a small issue with some old lady’s cat up in a tree, Hoseok and Taehyung had volunteered to go on their own. It was a relaxing Thursday afternoon.

Like clockwork, right as you were almost dozing off, the lights began to flash and blare as your walkie-talkies exploded to life and the dispatch officer began reading out the issue.

The boys spring to life, immediately jumping over to the pole and going downstairs to change into their uniforms. You sigh and use the stairs to run down to the garage and get into your uniform, clambering into the truck as Namjoon begins listing out orders. It was a gas leak in a chemical factory, and they wanted the firemen to take care of it. You were only following for protocol.

“It shouldn’t be too complicated. Yoongi, did you contact the engineers to shut off the power?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah, they turned off all electricity, but they can’t turn off the gas valve. It’s stuck.”

“Okay, that’ll be the first thing to take care of. Jungkook, can you take care of that?”

You watch as the firetrucks pull in and follow the men into the warehouse. It’s completely dark but they all turn on their headlights as they treck through.

Namjoon leads them into the main gas chamber where one of the tanks is steadily leaking a stream of cold, compressed air out of it. Him and Jungkook immediately head over and begin working together to tighten the valve, while Seokjin begins looking for the pipe that leads into the tank.

You watch, boredly as the men do their thing, when suddenly, Jungkook yanks a bit too hard and both him and Namjoon are thrown back.

Jungkook immediately begins yelling out, and you scramble up in horror to see that he’d been thrown back into a piece of metal that was sticking out.

“Oh my god,” you cry out as you rush to his side. “Jungkook, hold on, I got you. Can you turn on your side so I can see the wound better?”

He moves while wincing in pain, but manages to maneuver so that the wound on his back is facing you. Using a flashlight, you make sure that the metal didn’t pierce any vital organs or arteries, and reassure him that it’s okay as you begin cleaning and stitching up the wound. After you’re finished, you look up to see Seokjin run into the room, and let you all know that he’d disassembled the valve and fixed the leak.

You sigh in relief as you cut the final thread and place some gauze over the stitches. Hoseok and Jimin had returned to help, and they throw Jungkook’s arms over their shoulders as they help him walk out of the building. You begin to pack your things, when you see Namjoon lagging behind the rest of the group, clutching his arm.

You catch up to him, “Hey, are you okay?”

He winces, but nods at you to go. “I’m fine. Catch up with the rest of them. I’ll be right behind you.”

You frown as you survey his features. The boys are now out of sight and you and Namjoon are the only ones left inside the chamber. “No, you don’t look very okay. Did you get hurt?”

He finally relents, groaning in pain as you guide him to sit down on some steps and remove his jacket. You gasp as his t-shirt comes off. Jungkook had been impaled when he hit the wall as he was thrown back, but it seemed that Namjoon had been in the direct line of contact when the valve of the pipe had blown off. It had sliced through his uniform and left quite a deep cut in his rib.

“Holy shit, Namjoon, you are not okay. Let me stitch this up right now.”

He shakes his head, “Let’s get out of here, first.”

You push him back. “If you keep moving, this wound is too close to your vital organs and it might cause infection or you might bleed out. Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

He shakes his head as you begin unpacking your box of materials. For the first time in your few weeks at the department, you see a dark look of shame and regret written over his face. “I was the one who asked Jungkook to help me, if I didn’t, he wouldn’t be hurt.”

You click your tongue at him as you clean the wound, apologizing as he hisses in pain at the contact of alcohol. “You know, you say a lot of stupid shit, but that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard you say to me. Ever.”

He laughs a little at that, wincing as it puts pressure on his side. You glare at him as you examine the wound and begin numbing the surrounding skin. “You’re a great chief, you know that. I’m administering some pretty heavy painkillers. Tell me when you start getting a bit woozy.”

He just silently watches you hover over his torso, squinting as you maneuver the hook needle and stitch him up. “I think that’s the first time you ever complimented me, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now your chief mode is off, I guess.”

He furrows his brows. “Chief mode?”

You nod, snipping at the threads as you begin another stitch.

“You have these modes you enter on the job. One of them is when you become this intense, no-nonsense leader, telling us all what to do and what to get done.”

He smiles, “And the other mode?”

“There’s two actually,” you say, still focused on his wound, “There’s one that’s always flirting with me, and there’s a third, where I can see that you really, really care for everyone on this team. That third one is the mode you’re in.”

“Are you maybe getting turned on by that mode, Y/N?” He winks at you, and you laugh, poking him in his side and making him groan out as you finish dressing the clean wound and help him get his uniform jacket back on. “Shut up, now your flirty mode is back on too.”

You’re cleaning up the materials in your box when suddenly, the lights come back on, bright white, and as you and Namjoon are squinting to try and reassess your surroundings, the huge gate to the chamber closes with a hissing noise and a loud clang.

“Shit,” you hear Namjoon cuss, and you scramble up, running over to the door and searching for a handle, a knob, or a button, anything to get it back open. You click your walkie-talkie, waiting for the static to sound to let you know that it’s communicating, but there’s nothing.

“No use,” he winces, zipping up his jacket, “The company probably just turned the electricity on when they saw some of the trucks leaving.”

You watch in horror as the vents surrounding you begin hissing and cold air begins drafting in. “What is this?”

“It’s a containment chamber for flammable chemicals, so I assume that it stays at a cool temperature. It’s fine, some of the boys will probably realize we’re here and be back in no time.” He lays down against the steps.

“Namjoon!” You scramble over, “Do not fall asleep, do you hear me? The temperature dropping is going to make your wound even worse. You need to stay warm, stand up if you can.”

He frowns, curling into himself with a pout. “I’m cold.”

You roll your eyes. It was the painkillers kicking in. He was getting lethargic, and it could kill him. “I know, you big fat baby, but if we don’t start warming up, we might die in here. C’mon, stand up.”

He begins moving around, although you instruct him not to stress his wound, he begins rocking around on his legs to try and make some body heat. You do the same, waving your arms around and trying to generate some heat.

At one point, you lose complete sense of time, and Namjoon wakes up from the initial wave of his painkillers to find the both of you huddled in the corner of the chamber, knees curled into your torsos as you shiver in the cold.

“Y-Y/N,” he breathes, and reality dawns on him as he sees the mist of his breath fan out from his mouth. “Y/N?”

“S-s-so cold,” you chatter, curling into him as he puts his good arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“D-don’t fall asleep,” he breathes, and you don’t respond, the chills rocking your entire shaking body as you curl into him further.

The walkie-talkie screeches for a moment, and Namjoon grabs it, responding back to the static. “H-hello? Anyone! Y/N and I are stuck in the main chamber! Temperature is dropping quickly. Hello?!”

The only response is static as he drops the walkie-talkie to just pull you in closer. “Y/N?”

There’s no response, and when he pulls back to try and look at you, your head lulls in his arms.

“Shit,” he mutters, “Y/N, Y/N!” He shakes you, but you’re completely unconscious in his arms. "Wake up!”

“No no no no no,” he chants, as he begins undressing, his whole body resisting the motions as he shivers in the cold, but he perseveres. He pulls his uniform open, baring his chest, and then proceeds to unbutton your uniform as well, baring a t-shirt underneath. He pulls your limp body close as he removes the t-shirt and then completely drapes himself over you, pressing your bare chests together as he pulls you tight against him, skin to skin.

He pulls the uniform tighter around your back so that you don’t lose any more body heat, when he finally hears yelling and pounding on the other side of the huge gate. He hugs you closer to himself before everything goes black, too.

[asgardian--angels]

Recommend some good folk metal music please

:D i never thought i’d see the day when someone actually wants to know more about the music i listen to *cracks knuckles* my time has come

I apologize in advance for this novel. Feel free to skip to the recommended tracks lol.

Most folk metal comes out of northern Europe (Finland, heavily) though you can find it all over the world (Hu Band comes to mind but I mean, it’s on every continent). I am one of those people with like, a small handful of favorite bands that I listen to mercilessly so I am sure that I am only representing a miniscule percentage of what’s available out there. What’s great is that folk metal is much more versatile than many other genres in its sound; the essence of folk metal is simply to 1) utilize traditional (or rather, in the sense of a metal band, non-traditional) instruments such as violin, accordion, brass ensemble, bagpipes, what have you, and 2) have lyrical themes which revolve around regional folklore, mythology, cultural heritage, or place (what I particularly like is a frequent reverence and respect for nature). Other genres of metal (death, black) have the second element but not the first, and tend to incorporate darker overall tones and consistently harsher or lo-fi vocal styles and sounds. Folk metal can be a gateway genre into metal and can often be quite hopepunk (if you will). Because of these criteria, the actual sound of folk metal can range from sea shanties to ‘spooky walk in the midnight woods’ to scathing social commentary to SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SH

Basically you can find a range of styles within the genre that fit what you’re looking for, from those that have an orchestral, ballad feel, to things that border on death metal but have a hurdy-gurdy in there. There’s also a much higher percentage of female-led folk metal bands than other metal genres.

I’ll go through my top picks.

Turisas. These motherfuckers. My boys.

Turisas is based in Finland, but sing primarily in English (with occasional Finnish, a smidge of Greek and Swedish too). Four albums out to date, fifth in progress. Sound is absolutely fucking bonkers god tier shit, if I may say so myself. Every single song sounds like you’ve been transported into an Iliad metal musical. Heavy use of a full orchestra and choir, along with sick violin and accordion solos. Their lyrical themes focus heavily on ancient Greco-Roman and Viking military history - but before you raise any red flags, rest assured they’re liberal as fuck and trust me the tea is scalding when Mathias feels like making a Point about Then and Now. No seriously, I don’t know how to express the beauty and depth of his songwriting - Mathias Nygård is an incredibly talented composer, musician, and songwriter (nay, POET), and an extremely intelligent and down to earth guy. There are plenty of bands that are happy to write Viking songs about pillaging and glorious death in battle and all that (Alestorm comes to mind), those are a dime a dozen. Turisas makes history come to life in a way that transports you back in time and thrusts you into the living breathing world of the past. They deal with the horrors and tragedy of war from both sides, consequences and motivations, fears and pride and loss, home and family, despair and hope. They write songs about people, big and small, and their role in weaving the great tapestry of history. And the best part is that it’s informed - Mathias does his damn research and the tales he tells are rooted in fact. He brings them to life so we can experience what it must have been like for those real living people, with the goal of forcing us to confront our own selves in them. He’s a modern Homer, I shit you not. 

Did I mention there’s a song about pirates that’s actually really complex and nuanced, about how the hypocrisy and vile colonialist deeds of emperors makes them no different than the criminals they persecute?

Or that they do a badass cover of Rasputin?? yeah?????

Anyway enough gushing. Their second and third albums (The Varangian Way, Stand Up And Fight) are consecutive concept albums that follow the story of the Varangian Guard (the legendary Viking battalion that defended Alexander the Great) so the songs are actually chronologically linked to tell this epic tale. It’s a fucking listen, lads. The Varangian Way is probably my favorite album. But all their albums are top notch. 

My favorite songs: End of An Empire (this one comes for 2020 hard), Piece by Piece (AKA die fascists 2k20), Cursed Be Iron, Among Ancestors, Greek Fire, Miklagard Overture (you gotta earn this song tho, it’s the finale)

Good first listen picks/hits: Battle Metal, To Holmgard and Beyond, March of the Varangian Guard, Ten More Miles, One More

Finntroll. These other motherfuckers. My other boys.

Another big name in the Finnish folk metal scene. As you can see, their band revolves both aesthetically and musically around Scandinavian troll folklore. Yall weird elf-fuckers who like the really big ears? Here you go. Look at those ears. They’re good friends with Turisas. Both love their facepaint.

Musical style leans much more towards black and death metal influenced, with a heavier, fuller sound and growling vocals. But it’s an incredibly rich and creative aural tapestry, with layers of masterfully executed sound that’s a real delight to lose yourself in. Use of fiddle, brass, keyboard, accordion, and banjo, and strong folk melodies make their sound unmistakable and unique. They are known for their ‘black humppa’ beat, which basically gives the effect of feeling the primal need to stomp around loudly to their music. It’s great cardio. They also utilize orchestra in some great intro tracks. They know their stuff.

The majority of their songs are sung in Swedish (they do some English cover songs which are FANTASTIC holy SHIT), but don’t let that stop you. The mood and power and emotion of their music transcend language, and you can be sure the lyrics are about either trolls, witches, the dark woods, spirits, or something of that ilk. I think Swedish as a language works very well with this kind of music, and honestly having it in English would lose something. 

They have been around a long time and so have many albums, but I personally have only listened to the last three which feature their current singer, Mathias Lillmåns, whom I adore. Those albums are Nifelvind, Blodsvept, and their recent release Vredesvävd (that i’ve had on repeat since I got it three weeks ago). I’m sure their other ones are great too, I just can’t make a personal recommendation since I haven’t heard them. 

My favorite songs: Galgasång, Tiden Utan Tid, Ylaren, Skogsdotter, Två Ormar, Ett Norrskensdåd, Skövlarens Död

Good first listen picks/hits: Forsen, Under Bergets Rot, Häxbrygd, Trollhammaren (older song), Solsagan

I’ll go through these other ones a little faster, I haven’t heard quite as much from them but I do love them.

Korpiklaani. 

Great, full folk sound, utilizes a lot of folk instruments including some less commonly seen ones like hurdy gurdy. Songs are mostly in Finnish but plenty in English too. Jonne Järvelä has a really unique voice that grows on you, but it’s not for everyone. The band started as Sami folk, and Jonne is trained in Sami yoik singing, which makes an appearance in a few songs. I prefer the Finnish tracks, as a lot of the English ones are drinking songs lmao. But again, really well-executed music with layers of sound that keeps you hooked. I haven’t heard enough of their discography to really recommend enough to cover everything. 

Song picks: Minä Näin Vedessä Neidon, Metsälle, Ämmänhauta, Lempo

Moonsorrow.

Definitely a darker, black-folk band. Probably not a great pick if you aren’t accustomed to black metal - very long tracks (8-15 mins is standard), growling/shrieking vocals, a ‘thinner’ but encompassing wall of sound usual of black metal, but with the benefit of wonderfully entrancing dark folk elements and chants. It’s done really really well. Sung almost entirely in Finnish (apart from cover tracks). Lyrically, focuses on themes of Norse mythology, man vs nature and similar elements. Definitely one of those bands whose music gets you into a zone. I can lose serious time just putting a whole album on and letting my mind wander elsewhere. My favorite album is Jumalten Aika. 

Song picks: Ruttolehto Sis. Päivättömän Päivän Kansa (my fucking FAVORITE), Suden Tunti (well known hit), and also uhh check out their cover of Non Serviam cause it’s a fucking banger

Other bands that I like what I’ve heard but really can’t say much about them, whoops - Tyr (from the Faroe Islands, great stuff, Faroese is a baller language), Ensiferum, Nightwish (female-led).... I’m open to suggestions. Like I said, there are folk metal bands all over the world, and each is intrinsically linked to a sense of place and cultural identity that makes them unique. I’d love to hear about more tbh. 

[guileheroine]

sundown

korra and asami hang out romantically at yet another wedding 🍷 / ao3

Fire Lord Izumi’s second son didn’t want to marry in the Fire Nation capital, but right by the sea, in the hometown of his now-bride. The midsummer celebration, though tempered by its more modest location, is still an event of imperial proportions, naturally incorporating the presence of any Avatars and company that happen to be near town. The admittedly large part of Asami that still loves the fairytale charm of a beach wedding is more than happy to tag along.

By the time the fifteenth song is floating across the lantern-, streamer- and flower-festooned courtyard from the ensemble upon the dais, Asami is leant quiet over the bar, quite far from the dancefloor. She folds her arms onto the warm wood, and head onto her arms, lulled by the music, clinking cinnabar nails against her drink. 

The twanging, romantic strain could be familiar; she imagines it’s reaching and rousing some buried part of her, a bloodline back, something more Fire Nation than she could reasonably, in reality, profess any insight or claim over. With her in a novel kind of way is the knowledge that from this very port town hailed the first of the colonists that were her ancestors. How interesting to be back, kind of. She lets her feet sway more than tap to the melody and watches.

On the bar’s other side, the long, lavish buffet continues to be methodically replenished. Smoke wilts towards her from the open grill, carrying back the aroma of the fried crab that Asami has probably had too much of. Her eyes follow the wisps of smoke over the short, winding stairway, carved rough as if by the wind’s own hand in the granite coastline, up to the band’s dais. Even at this hour, the hue of the sky seems to reflect the wedding colours - a swath of red-gold buffeted by ocean air; and the musicians thrum as one entity, with no less energy than they had begun the party with. Asami watches the sea breeze swirl in the violinist’s hair; drawn by her calm, composed beauty, the focus in her face. The Fire Nation could be cool.

A way below the band loiter the remaining dancers, with considerably less zeal than they had had ten songs ago, but drink-warm smiles all around. Like Asami a minute before, the guests are steadily peeling off; and for this song, it’s mostly those in pairs that stay on the floor, moving perhaps slower than the pace of the tune would dictate. Asami knows she’s far from the only one feeling tired, though the fizz of excitement that never quite leaves an event like this still permeates the fragrant air. She takes another warming sip as she looks over at none other than the fresh-faced, freshly-married Prince Eito, though he practically disappears when her eyes settle on the person in his arms.  

Korra all but tiptoes up at her much taller dance partner, the light of good conversation in her eyes, somewhat lightlike herself in her cornsilk-coloured dress, though, really, she almost always appeared that way. The sight is almost dreamlike, softened by incense haze. Asami keeps her gaze as the song finishes and the conversation comes to a close, warm from the drink and the view. She watches Korra take her leave and scan immediately around, waiting until her eyes find Asami's own across the court, light up (Asami smiles), and she begins to stride over.

“Danced out?” Asami says when Korra enters earshot. Korra grins back and hops onto the stool next to Asami’s, though not before bending the earth under it to push it closer to her.

“Not even close,” she says, leaning forward to sniff at Asami’s drink. “What is this?”

“Authentic fire whiskey,” Asami replies, nudging the glass towards her before gesturing back at the dancefloor. “So how come you’re not still up there?”

Korra’s mouth curves against the glass as she takes a sip. “Because,” she swallows, “Prince Eito was just telling me about all his research with the Imperial Engineering Society and I thought it might interest you. I mean, as far as I knew, he was just a patron!”

“Oh, really?” Asami lifts her head from the bar, brow rising in curiosity. “I thought so, too. That’s kind of awesome. And new!” She laughs. “That one of these royals is a scientist and not just headed straight for the armed forces.”

“Right,” Korra affirms, looking beyond Asami momentarily when she sees the bartender finish with another guest. She lifts her hand to Asami’s shoulder, yet another flare of warmth to Asami’s already-warm body, and calls, “I’ll have what she’s having,” with a smile, turning back once her own glass of fire whiskey is promptly served. “It’s the Izumi touch, isn’t it?”

Asami catches her eye and chuckles again. “Yeah, let’s call it what it is.”

“Well, I like her style,” Korra says with an affected air, pursing her fingers around her glass formally, after another swig. “I think it’s having a wonderful effect on the youth of this country.”

Asami nods as she listens. “And, you know, yesterday at the Society’s conference, they were talking so much about outreach, into schools and colleges. Even, like, sending these kids on programs to the United Republic." She rubs her chin. "You’d think the Fire Nation would be at least as leading-edge as us when it comes to technology, but their expertise is still mostly military-” Asami drains the rest of her drink, pensive. When Korra follows suit, Asami wrinkles her nose. “Korra, no,” she frowns, “you’re a lightweight.”

Korra only licks her lips and shrugs in return, eliciting a resigned giggle. “Anyway,” Asami continues, “it’ll be amazing to have Future Industries partner with them and maybe sponsor some of those scholarships. We’re going super global,” she smiles. She lays her head back onto her folded arms, closing her eyes. Korra smoothes a gentle palm over her hair. Somewhere far away, the music picks up again, a melody more fluid than the one before.

“Yeah,” Korra says softly, locking both arms around Asami’s waist for a moment. “Well. I don’t mind as long as you stay right here.”

In response, Asami nods almost imperceptibly and yawns. The action draws Korra’s arms back to her, along with her lips; she kisses her cheek and then murmurs into it. “Hey, you’re tired, aren’t you?”

Asami sits up again and blinks, the thick-scented air that molds around her face immediately replacing the feel of her arm. Korra moves with her rather than releasing her hold. “Mm, I guess I am,” Asami sighs. “I was up pretty late last night.”

“On the phone, I know,” Korra supplies. “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

Asami gives her an apologetic smile. “I just want to make sure I don’t fall behind on anything important back home.”

Korra indicates her understanding with a nod and the squeeze of her eyelids, then removes her arms to fold them over the bar, mirroring Asami. “I know you can’t afford to,” she says. “Besides, you’ve always been like that! I remember being out of the city with you for the first time - around the Earth Kingdom, when we were looking for airbenders after Harmonic Convergence, right - and you’d call your company every day that we had signal.”

“That wasn't the first time, Korra!” Asami laughs, shaking her head. “The South Pole, remember? Though at that point, my company really was all I could afford to think about…”

“Right, yeah!” Korra rolls her eyes at her own oversight, following with a small, flushed laugh. (Criminally cute, Asami thinks.)

She nudges Korra’s bare shoulder with her own. “You shouldn't have downed that fire whiskey.”

Korra more-than-nudges Asami back, and Asami laughs freely as she steadies herself with a hand on the edge of the counter, thrown not quite off balance.

Korra frowns. “See, that should have toppled you! Maybe you’re the one who needs to down a few more!”  

“I will, just for you,” Asami responds readily, playful, her lean back into Korra making a seamless pendulum swing. She pushes against the space where Korra’s hair is tucked behind her ear, melting her girlfriend’s mock-indignancy immediately into the warmest of smiles. “What would you like me to have?” (Me meaning us, of course, because they both know that they both know Korra would partake of Asami’s choice.)

“The awamori,” Korra replies. “Straight. Well, on the rocks.”

Asami pulls herself back and raises her eyebrow. “Korra, I’ll have to carry you back inside.”

“I just want a bit,” Korra replies. “It’s for you! To wake you up,” she nods encouragingly, an earnest clasp on Asami’s forearm.

Asami concedes with a shrug, swiveling on her seat to fetch the bartender and obtain the agreed order.

“Anyway,” Korra continues when she returns her attention to her. “I was going to say that maybe I remembered you on that trip ‘cause… well, I started really noticing you, then. That was around the time.” She looks down at her own fingers splayed on the wood, wearing the edge of a smile, and even through the swirly smoke air it nicks Asami’s heart.

“And what did you think?” She probes, taking a sip of the drink, and willing herself not to smile (or blush, except she can’t really help involuntary physiological reactions. So says her practical mind, though her impractical heart does no less than its best to ignore it.)

“I thought it was very responsible of you to call your company and check in with Republic City every day,” Korra says cordially, meeting her eyes. “Very, uh, conscientious. And kind of sweet, that you got all worried when you couldn’t.”

Almost demurely, Asami offers her the drink in her hand in response. “Like you said, I have to be,” she answers, dismisses the courtesy. “The only reason you’re not the one doing that is that you’d have every inch of the map to check up on.” She rests her head on her palm, lethargy swimming into her muscles again. “And you do a hell of a job keeping the whole damn world anyway.”

“Oh, shh. I bet you say that to all the Avatars.” Korra pushes Asami’s glass back to her and simultaneously maneuvers herself forward, leaning her head down on Asami’s shoulder. “Alright, city girl,” she sighs, and never finishes the sentence, losing her trail of thought to the balmy breeze...

The music decelerates to the gentlest tune yet, rippling through the court; it mixes with the smoke and perfume and salt and buzz in the air to make a surprisingly pleasant cocktail. Asami imagines the action of slipping her hand around Korra’s waist, as she sinks deeper into the near-sleep where imagination is hard to distinguish from reality. Further and further, until her head nods with a jerk onto Korra’s against her, and that action causes Korra to look up again.

“Wanna leave?” She says, and yawns, her voice drawing Asami back into the real world.

“I thought you’d want another dance.” Asami catches the yawn.

They had danced together for a song or two when the sun had still been up, mingling and eating and drinking their way through the following few hours, but the truth was Asami was satisfied, because she had watched Korra dance for a while longer.

“I know.” Korra yawns cutely again - Asami remembers that she wanted to put her arm around her. “I know, I did, but I think you’re rubbing off on me.”

The wording makes her snicker, and before she can stop herself (unfiltered, unfazed), Asami says, “I can if you really want.” And all of a sudden the prospect of turning in sounds nicer than ever.

“Smooth,” Korra bites away her embarrassed smile. It becomes thin and teasing as she pushes her chin forward. “It’s a shame I was already going to let you take me out of here.” She takes Asami by both hands and pulls her off the stool. “Come on. My pretty, witty city girl.”

“You know I actually did want to take you out,” Asami says as she finds her feet, leaning back against the bar once standing. “Like around this town. To dinner.”

“Oh. Why not tomorrow!” Korra chirps at the suggestion, as they scan for the bride or groom to take their leave. “Lunch date. Or breakfast, brunch, whatever.” When Asami mms her agreement, Korra takes her arm, adding, “You spoil me, you know that?”

Asami rolls her eyes, before deciding to do one better. “Korra, spending quality time with you feels more like spoiling m-”

Korra anticipates the words before they’re done leaving her lips, cutting Asami off with a laugh and a “Shut up!”

“I’m serious!” Asami protests.

“Yeah?” Korra pulls her wrist, urging her into a walk.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go already. Let’s go spend some quality time together.”